


Kiss with a fist

by purple_cube



Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:46:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_cube/pseuds/purple_cube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He may have taken 'Gaia' away from her, but she'll never be able to keep 'Idun' away from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss with a fist

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV, using the prompts 'craving' and 'please'.

 

“I fucking hate you.”  
  
“Nice to see you too,” he mutters, moving aside to let her into the apartment. It’s been just over a month since she left for England, and he tries to ignore the relief that floods his entire being upon finding her at his door. “Axl know you’re back?”  
  
Her glare at the mention of his brother is enough of an answer. “I hate you.”  
  
He rolls his eyes. “You said that already.”  
  
“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of saying it,” she mutters as she glances around his place. “Bedroom that way?”  
  
He hesitates, knowing she’ll hate herself just as much as she hates him if he doesn’t kick her out right now.   
  
Gaia smiles – somewhat cruelly. “Anders Johnson is having second thoughts about fucking a girl? Seriously?”  
  
“The irony isn’t lost on me,” he admits. “But I know you’re gonna regret this, and if there’s a chance that I can stop this from happening –“  
  
She flies at him, shoving him hard against the door. “A chance to stop this? Do you think I would even be here if I thought there was a chance of stopping this?”  
  
He winces at her helpless expression, carefully overlooking the way she’s starting to rub against him. “No.”  
  
“Bedroom. Now.” She steps back a fraction, allowing him to take the lead.   
  
He unbuttons his shirt as he walks, knowing from the sounds coming from behind him that she’s doing the same. They pause at opposite sides of the bed, eyes fixed on each other as they undress.   
  
“I’m in control,” she says steadily as his boxers finally drop to the floor. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.   
  
“I’m in control over you,” she clarifies, knowing that she will never have control over herself, not now. He remembers how much that hurt in the beginning, when it was so hard to accept _Bragi_ without letting _Anders_ disappear. He never achieved it, but maybe he can stop her from being dragged down the same path.   
  
“Okay.”  
  
She searches the room. “Those ties,” she says, pointing with an inclination of her head. “I’m gonna use them.”  
  
He moves to pick them up from the dresser before walking around to her side of the bed. She shoves him down onto the mattress unceremoniously, the ties left in his clenched fists.   
  
“I’m securing you to the bed,” she announces evenly. But she’s watching him carefully, waiting for his permission.  
  
He nods once before scooting up to the head of the bed. She clambers onto him, and they both gasp at the electricity that sparks as a result of their bodies touching for the first time in so long.   
  
She falters as she reaches for the silk ties. He nods again, this time in encouragement, and a moment later she yanks up his wrist and expertly wraps the material around him and one of the slender columns of the headboard. She shifts to perform the same action on his other arm, but he’s only dimly aware of this as the moist patch that she’s left on his stomach distracts him. _Fuck. She’s wet already_.  
  
The sound of her voice brings him back into focus. “Try it out.”  
  
He pulls against his restraints, but they don’t budge.   
  
She must be enjoying the alarm that flutters across his face, because she grins for the first time. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”  
  
Somehow, he doesn’t believe her.   
  
He doesn’t have time to analyse his reasons though, because she shifts again, reaching for a condom on the side table that he doesn’t remember putting there. She’s swift in ripping the packet open and rolling it onto him. She’s even quicker in grasping his dick and guiding him inside of her.  
  
They both moan loudly, the relief in their submission palpable. He starts to thrust upward, but is stopped by her fists smacking down onto his abdomen.  
  
“No,” she practically growls. “ _I’m_ in charge.”  
  
“I need to –“  
  
“This isn’t about what _you_ need.”  
  
She grinds down harshly, and all he can do is nod. He knows that he has to give her this, just once.  
  
So he stills, letting her take what she needs from him. She rides him mercilessly, the fingertips of one hand disappearing in the space between them to rub at her clit furiously. She comes within minutes, a sharp and desperate cry accompanying the pulsing of her muscles around him.   
  
She slows, but doesn’t stop. Her half-lidded eyes flash at him momentarily before she speeds up again, riding him hard and fast. This time, only the slightest brush of her fingers is needed and she climaxes with gasping laughter.  
  
This time she stills, her palms flat against his chest as she tries to regulate her breathing.  
  
“Gaia,” he pleads.  
  
He barely has time to register her movement. The sound of the sharp slap reverberates around the room, each echo matching the pulse of pain that he feels across his cheek.  
  
“ _You_ do not get to call me that,” she spits out. “You took that away from me… _Bragi_.” The tail-end of his name comes out as a hiss between her clenched teeth.  
  
Her hips start to circle against him, but she stays hunched over him, her lips inches from his. He could reach up with his mouth for a kiss – he certainly wants to – but something in her eyes holds him back.   
  
Her ragged breaths tell him that she’s close again. He can’t resist her now, and he extends his neck to lick at her jawline in one long stroke. She comes with a gasp that he feels more than he hears, and he sinks back into the pillow with a sigh.  
  
She doesn’t move for a long time now, and he wonders if she’s done – and if she’ll ever let him be done. The renewal of her movements, now shallow and erratic, send shoots of pain and desire through his body in equal measure.  
  
“Gai–“ He groans, remembering her order at the last moment. “Idun… _please_.”  
  
But he realises that she isn’t listening when her cunt contracts around him once more. He looks up to see her eyes screwed shut, her breath caught in her throat as she climaxes silently.   
  
It’s a long moment before she looks down at him, giving him the slightest nod of her head. He doesn’t hesitate, driving up and into her as best as he can without the use of his arms for leverage. Ten, maybe twelve thrusts are enough to get him there, all of his pent-up anger and desire and guilt over her bursting out of him in a shout that fills the room.  
  
When he’s done, she collapses onto his chest, her hair tickling his lips. He puffs out a lung-full of air, earning a second’s respite before the hair falls back into its original position. The action gets her attention though, and she slides off of him and onto the mattress to his side. They’re still touching, but he knows that it’s more through necessity than affection. He concentrates on the sounds of their breathing, carefully ignoring the already mounting _need_ to be inside her again.   
  
“I fucking hate you.” But even as she says the final word, her fingertips move to play on his chest, tracing swirling patterns as she continues. “But I don’t hate fucking you.”  
  
One corner of his mouth curls as he stares up at the ceiling. He probably couldn’t have put it better himself. “Same.”

 


End file.
